


A Place To Hide

by JET_Playin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Clever kids, Comfort No Hurt, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Friends to Lovers, HP: Epilogue Compliant, Hiding, M/M, Meddling Kids, Parenthood, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 06:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13048665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JET_Playin/pseuds/JET_Playin
Summary: Draco was hiding, he could admit that...





	A Place To Hide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unadulteratedstorycollector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unadulteratedstorycollector/gifts).



> Based on a prompt from the lovely unadulteratedstorycollector: Your best friend's bedroom...
> 
> Thank you so much, sweetie, this was so much fun to write!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or his friends, and will not be making any money from the creation of this ficlet :)

Draco was being ridiculous, he could admit that. He was hiding. What else could he do? Although, technically, he wasn't really hiding… No one was looking for him, after all.

He loved Pansy’s bedroom. Well, her old bedroom, her childhood bedroom. The atmosphere always welcomed him, somehow comfortable in its grand emptiness. Some might disagree; it should have been cold, merely fashionable, not actually livable. With the enormous bed as a centerpiece, its draped canopy in sheer white, and the black duvet covering the rest. He particularly loved the duvet. Once, he'd tried to convince his father to buy one for him, but nothing he'd found could compare. Apparently, it was one of a kind. 

Wrapping it tighter around his shoulders, Draco peered past the wooden posts to the room beyond. The stone floor, instead of hardwood, set Pansy apart from their peers, and the walls were the dark, natural grey of the stone that forged them. The furniture was sparse, a settee near the glass doors that led to the balcony, a single armchair near the fireplace on the opposite wall, a vanity with a small, spindly chair, and an armoire. Less than half of the space was used. 

He didn't know what what it said about Pansy, what it said about him, but he loved it. Perhaps it was because he'd spent so much time there, throughout his life. It was where he went when his father was arrested. Where he went when Voldemort ordered him to kill Dumbledore. Where he went when Harry got married, a week after Draco, himself, did. And, of course, it was where he went when Astoria left him, alone with a toddler he didn't know how to care for. Pansy helped him through those days, and she'd help him through this. 

This was worse. He knew it would be. How could he have been so stupid? He knew the dangers. Hell, he spent most of his youth listing the ways it would go wrong, didn’t he? And yet, there he was. His best friend’s bedroom… again.

“Draco?” Pansy whispered, poking her head into the room. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the party?” 

He simply stared at her from eyes that felt bruised and swollen. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to do anything. He'd have to collect Scorpius… Maybe he would ask Pansy to do that. Later. 

-

“Are you just going to stay in here, forever?” she asked, when Draco brought it up. “My parents are going to flip, Draco. You cannot - you  _ may _ not, stay in here forever.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, your parents love me.” It was true, although they were a bit peeved with him, since he married Astoria instead of Pansy.

“Yes, they do,” she conceded. “Draco, this isn’t healthy.”

“I don’t care,” he mumbled, hugging a pillow to his chest. 

“Can’t you just tell me what happened?”

“No.”

She sighed, but left. When she returned with Scorpius, Draco pulled him close, squeezing him until he squirmed and demanded to be released. 

“Papa, I can’t breathe.” He sounded annoyed, rather than breathless, and Draco couldn't help but grin.

“I’m sorry, Scorp. I just love you so much,” he said, with a soft smile. So much had changed… nearly a year.

“I love you, too, papa.” Scorpius smiled in return, crossing his legs and turning to face Draco, fully. “Why did you leave? Mr. Potter asked-” 

“I'm sure I know what he asked. Not to worry, I'll handle it.”

“Will you?” Scorpius asked, his narrowed eyes so like Draco's. “Only, you're hiding in Aunt Pansy’s old bedroom… Again.”

“Again?” 

“Well, yeah. Don't you remember last year? When Mr. Potter asked you to dinner? You hid in here until-” 

“Alright, that's enough, thank you.”

“So, how long will it be, this time?”

“Forever, Scorp. I'm never leaving.”

“You're such a drama queen,” he groaned, tossing his white blond hair from in front of his eyes. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. There's nothing to worry about.”

“Right.” Sighing, he heaved his little form from the bed, sounding closer to one hundred than his meager ten years. “Okay, then. I suppose I'll have Aunt Pans take me to school, when it starts…”

“No!” Draco cried, jolting upright in the bed and shooting him a sly smile when Scorpius ground to a halt. “Call Greg. He's headed there, anyway.”

“Fine,” he sighed, then marched through the door. 

-

He made it a full day. Of course, he had to turn away numerous owls and fire calls, in that time. Pansy couldn't keep his mother from visiting, but that was okay. He found her presence comforting. Surely, he would never be too old to need his mummy; she would make everything better...

“What, in Merlin’s name, are you doing?” 

“Mother!” he cried, cringing away from the light that poured into the room, around her. When she merely lifted her hands to her hips, that universal symbol of displeasure, he cringed again. “You know perfectly well what I'm doing, Mother.”

“Disgracing yourself? Behaving like a child?”

“It's not that simple!” 

“Don't be ridiculous, Draco, of course it is. Harry came looking for you, at the Manor.” Crossing her arms, she moved into the room, eyeing Draco as she sent light flickering into ancient sconces on the walls. “What did he do? Tell me and we'll handle this like Malfoys.”

That dragged a reaction from him - which he realised, belatedly, was her intention. “We are not killing him, Mother!” 

She sighed. Did everyone have to sigh? “Of course not, Draco.” The bed dipped as she sat, and he could feel her hand on his shoulder. “What did he do, darling?” 

Draco sighed. It was clearly catching. “He didn't do anything.” 

“He didn't do anything?” 

He couldn't say it again, so shook his head, burrowing deeper into Pansy’s duvet. 

“Well,” she sniffed, disapproval seeping from her pores. “What did you do?” 

“I didn’t do anything, either. Honestly!”

“Yet, here you are, buried in your best friend’s bedroom, hiding from the consequences… as you always have done.”

“I’m not-” he began, but she leveled a look, the same one she used when he tried to pinch biscuits, as a child. “Fine, I’m hiding. What of it? I’m allowed.”

“You absolutely are not allowed, Draco. You have people depending on you and I did not raise you to shirk your duties.”

An inelegant snort escaped him, at that, but he  immediately regretted it as a stinging hex landed on the fleshy underside of his arm. “Ow! Mother!”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“Draco, wha-”

“I fell in love with him, okay? Are you happy?” He was shouting, voice echoing around the room in the silence that followed. 

Fuck, but it was true. No amount of burrowing into the world’s softest duvet could mask that truth. After all this time, through years, decades of defending his heart, building and maintaining walls to keep Harry out, they fell like nothing, crumbling under the simple domesticity of what had become their lives, together. The reality of it slammed into him and his face collapsed a moment before the tears began streaming. 

“I love him, Mother! Gods, how could I let this happen?” Throwing himself across the short distance, he took comfort in his mother’s arms. “I can’t face him, I can’t-”

She ran soothing hands through his hair, over his back. “Draco, you  _ are _ being ridiculous. It isn’t the end of the world to be in love.”

“It  _ is! _ How can I face him?”

With what felt to Draco like a cruel, sadistic smile, she held his face away from herself, looking into his eyes. He tried to avert them, but she followed the movement. “With your head held high,” she said. “Just like you always have.”

“But, Mother-”

“With your head held high, Draco.”

-

In spite of Narcissa’s words, Draco was determined. He would never leave that room. A week was nearly past, and a stack of letters sat on the bedside table. He told Pansy to burn them, but she just smiled. He could burn them, himself - he should. The fire was so far away. He had a wand, of course, but… The chicken scratch scrawled across the front of one, told him it was from Harry.  He was wrong; apparently Harry was looking for him. But that wasn't enough to force him from the bed, from his solitude. 

Scorpius visited, once more, bringing tales of his latest escapades with Albus, with vivid impressions of James and Harry's reactions. He talked about Lily, in an off-handed manner. He said she missed Draco. He missed her, terribly. She was a sweet little bundle of excitement and wonder. Still young enough to find joy in simple spells, she would squeal with joy when he sent sparks into the air while Harry made breakfast, insisting on bedtime stories that utilized levitation and magnification charms. 

He didn't want to think about Lily… The idea that he'd lose her, along with the rest, tore him apart. He knew it was coming. Love wasn't what Harry wanted, it wasn't what they agreed to. Their children were friends, they both needed the help that came with having another parent at hand and, eventually, they both needed what they found in each other. Love didn’t enter into that equation, and he still couldn't understand how he let it happen…

A soft knock drew his attention from the oppressive self-pity, and Draco groaned. More company was the last thing he wanted. It was too late at night to be Scorpius and Pansy was likely at home with her family, so he shouted “Bugger off!” and wriggled deeper into the mattress, pulling the duvet over his head. The sound of the door opening filtered through the cloth and goose down, and the bed dipped, a moment later. Mother, again, he was sure. He rolled away, curling himself into a ball.

“Fuck holding my head high. I’m not leaving.”

“Well, then,” a voice rumbled, deep and amused and definitely not Narcissa’s. “I suppose I’ll just have to come in.” True to his word, Harry yanked the duvet away, slid beneath it, and flipped it to cover them, again, before Draco could object. Strong arms came around his waist, setting tears prickling at his eyelids, in response. “Hey, handsome,” he murmured against Draco's neck, his lips following the hot breath.

“What are you doing here?” The words were thick and stuck to the roof of his mouth, but Harry didn't seem to notice.

“I can’t help you from out there, can I?” he asked. “I don’t know what’s wrong, exactly, but I want to help, Draco.”

Draco squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could do the same with his ears. Instead, he curled further into himself, shaking his head. “You can’t help.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry insisted, a pleading tone to his voice. “Just let me in, we can get through this.”

“No.” Still, he shook his head, hair tangling even more as it slid along the pillow beneath him. Harry’s hands tightened and he tried to turn Draco to face him. When it didn't work, he threw one leg over his hips, climbing to lay in front of him, and left his other leg sprawled across Draco's hip, caging him. He should have run, should have push him away, but it was nearly impossible, now that he knew... “Please,” he begged, avoiding Harry's eyes. “Just go away.”

“Not a chance, Malfoy. Talk to me.”

“No.”

Green eyes finally caught his, and Draco couldn't turn away. “Fine,” Harry said. “Then, I guess we’re just going to have to lay here forever. If you aren’t leaving, then I’m not leaving.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Potter. You have a job.”

“So do you.”

“And children.”

“You do, too.”

“And…”

“I have you,” Harry interrupted, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “But you’ll be here, with me.”

“Potter-” The tears spilled, there was no stopping them. “Just-”

“I love you, Draco. You can’t stop me from being there for you.”

Startled, all Draco could do was look at him. At his stupid, gorgeous face and his stupid, messy hair and his stupid, mesmerising eyes. “You… you love me?”

“Of course I do,” he said, frowning. “I have for a long time.”

“Is that why you’re in my best friend’s bedroom?” Draco asked, slightly dazed. He had to check. It was where he'd go, after all.

“I’m here because you are. Why are you in your best friend’s bedroom?”

“Because I love you…” 

He stared for a moment longer, then a grin split his face and Draco wanted to punch him. To kiss him. He began to question the wisdom of his confession when the grin turned manic and Harry rolled them, stilling once he was completely atop Draco, his groin rolling and his eyes laughing.

“You’re hiding because you love me?” It was less of a question than it sounded. Draco glared and Harry laughed - actually laughed! “You love me, and your instinct is to run to Pansy’s bedroom?”

“No!” Draco denied, then “Yes! I don’t know, I didn’t know what to do!”

“You scared the shit out of me, Draco.”

“Good.”

“Maybe, next time…” He paused, pressing kisses to Draco's cheeks, his nose, jaw, and he was finding it very difficult to remain annoyed when his mouth sought Harry's, of its own volition. “Maybe you could just, I don’t know,  _ stay.  _ And say it, instead?”

“I don’t know, Potter,” Draco murmured, finally wrapping his arms around broad shoulders, holding tightly. “That sounds like a massive compromise. What will you do, in return?”

“Well,” he smirked, trailing down to run his lips over Draco's collarbone. “I suppose I could say it, back.”

“I- I- Yes, that will have to do.”

“Draco?”

“Hmm?” His mind was swimming, his hips rocking on their own. Harry always did that to him; his body responded and Draco just had to tag along, behind. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t control it. “What?”

“I love you…”

“I love you, Harry. So much…” He knew how he sounded, desperate, needy, but what else could he do? If Harry would just- it had been ages, days. “Please, Harry! Please!”

But Harry paused. “Can we go home, Draco?” he asked. “I’m not doing this in your best friend’s bedroom.”

“Yes, Harry.” Laughing, Draco flipped them so he was on top, and crashed their lips together. “I’m afraid you are.”

The end

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are love and comments validate my existence! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️


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